


Melancholy

by FilthyPassion



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Kamie - Freeform, M/M, Steven Universe - Freeform, kevamie - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-09-25 14:26:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 7,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17123078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FilthyPassion/pseuds/FilthyPassion
Summary: After writing for so long you start to change your reality. The mind and body, yourself. Pain is all too real, and what is sadness if more than reality?





	1. Sometimes - From The Journals Of A Melancholic Poet

********

Sometimes, I feel like I'm drowning. 

Doesn't everyone though?.

 

Sometimes I feel like I'm flying

And still, they will as well. 

 

I'm not different

I'm not unique 

I waste away like all others

*********

Awake there is a sound of happiness. The cozy apartment in a closed in place. A scale of browns and purples and candlelight up late. 

Comfort is a small feeling, a mattress on the floor with thick hickory shaded blankets. Bought by someone you love, who can never sleep on them as well. But some nights you'll awake with a pain in your side and a heart in your hands. 

Because even the forbidden can be beautiful.

Jamie is a sad poet, a sad person, a sad mention of humanity. And yet he still finds time to smile. It's impressive really, because no matter who he is there's always a smile, and always a struggle behind it. What's the point in everything perfect after all? 

Sometimes it's the people that catch the sadness behind that smile. Like Steven Universe, the sad kid across town with nothing but joy in his voice. Or Sadie, the donut lady who no one really knows but she keeps smiling. Jamie's a lot like her. And the last person on his list is strange. Kevin, the boastful and ever charming rich kid. Who, without a doubt, is probably the saddest of them all. 

Now sad is such a simple way to put it, there are many kinds of sad. loss of control, apathetic, pained, depressed, drained, pressure, and so many more. And maybe apathy could describe the kind of sad his love tended to be, but really not even he knows. It's all above and all around and no one knows how to fix it. 

 

The tawny door creaks open, and Kevin slowly maneuvres around it, defeated. Suddenly stopping and resting his head on it, the air around seems to do something to him. It seems he might cry. 

And you might not think this gesture is huge, you might throw it off as nothing. Kevin never comes around. They see each other regularly but it's always hard to know what has heart and what doesn't.

Jamie stood delicately and walked over with his melancholy on his sleeve. Touching Kevin on the shoulder with his hand of honey, a comfort they both never receive. 

"Can I hug you?" Jamie asked in a soft voice, receiving a nod from Kevin who breathed out as they pressed against each other in a state where warmth can radiate around but the simple dark wind from outside gave them a type of desperation that you knew you could never let go. Or you'd just be pulled apart. 

Together, they walked in and Kevin sat down on the ever so aburn couch, yet spiced up with his deep purple pillows. Jamie walked close over to the kitchen to make tea. This seemed like a usual, a ceremony of sorts. Like they've done this so many times it just fades into the black. 

And he comes back with steaming cups of Presence tea from Numi (a good brand), they numb the mind and help the body. 

Relax, just relax.


	2. He Who Never Comes Around

Now as waking up would have it, the two were in sync.   
One after the other in squeezed shut eyes and hoping to be closer.   
And no one feels the need to leave this comfort, it's all they want to know. 

 

But life is a real thing. 

 

Slowly the eyes decide to open, and as much as one wants to hold on the other stands up. 

He Who Never Comes Around. Because he's sad and tired and can never find the time to be inside his own head. And he rips his arms from the one who loves him, who he is too blind to see. But always will remember the emptiness left between. 

And as he removes himself Jamie feels the loss inside and the cold swarm around. Another usual, but all unusual. 

Because He Who Never Comes Around doesn't tend to have a mind, but physically he's always there. A hand to hold, or a face to stare at. And Jamie never knows how to help. 

In the moment he stretches, muscles rippling before throwing on his tossed away shirt left on the ever so beige floor. And suddenly they stare at each other, complete apathy in his eyes, it pains him. Like everything is fake. But he's used to it. Yet every time he wonders what is even real to Kevin. If this whole thing is just fake if he only ever comes "around" when he sees something or when everyone else sees him. It's always up and down and around and never true. 

And now he wonders if he'll even stay. He has the tendencies to come for the night and leave the next day. Maybe just to waste away. 

That was per-usual. Always will be, always stays the same. And what can he do? They're fine this way, left in the not knowing and the want to know. 

It's just what's always been. 

He Who Never Comes Around. 

And today it feels that maybe he might stay. Hopeful, Jamie looks back at him with an apprehensive smile. Only receiving a grunt, he wonders if he did something. Maybe didn't do enough. 

So he sits up like a toddler, eyes of a kicked puppy, and smiles. 

He'd never know how endearing Kevin found this. He'd never think truly deep enough to know. 

But it did warm his heart to see a softening glance and to have his cheek softly caressed until finally, they could be in unison once again. 

A soft morning kiss, and a soft cuddle, and the feeling of being whole and yet empty all the same. 

Tracing his hand up Kevin's side, Jamie latched onto his neck as he broke their unison for one moment, breathing slightly as hair fell into his eyes. He started to climb over Jamie yet again but he hugged him behind the waist and tried to look into his eyes.

"Are you going to leave?" Jamie whispered softly into his ear, trying to find the reason for the tears swelling in his throat. There wasn't emotion yet, not now, unneeded sadness.

His eyes darted down as if regretting what he had said, knowing it seemed to bruise both of them. Kevin, however, cupped his chin in one hand and looked into his eyes ever so calm. 

He wouldn't smile. It wasn't in his nature, Jamie knew this. But he wanted one, he wanted one terribly. 

Instead, he shook his head with a sad expression and moved his hand down his other's shoulder, comfort. 

Maybe that's why Kevin meant something. 

He Who Never Comes Around.


	3. Thoughts

Maybe if you stay in the same place for so long you'll finally start to know things about yourself you never knew before. 

Purple pillows were always nice to see. Because they reminded Jamie of someone he loved. As he stayed in the same place and stared at that man he began to wonder, who really was that person? Can you even know someone if you don't know yourself?

He never really talks, and when he does it's in taste easy to forget. Pillow talks. 

Late pillow talks, things he wanted and things he couldn't have. But he had the pillows to say they could happen. 

For now, he'd have to sit in the morning silence of breathing and sipping too hot tea. 

It wasn't until minutes of being absorbed in his tea that he noticed Kevin staring at him as if expecting him to speak. Eyes widening, he looked around slightly. As if to ask a variation of "what?" And Kevin just kept staring, cracking his ever so familiar smirk. 

"Stop." Jamie breathed out looking down yet again. 

"What?"

"Just, stop." He was eyed up and down again, uncomfortably until elaborating. "What's going on?" The whispers seemed to quiet the room more if that was possible. Perhaps it was how Kevin tensed yet sighed out and melted all the same. His walls built so high and thick that it was hard to really get anything out of him. Ever. 

Late nights awake and dancing were Kevins soft spots. He loved touching and time together and just being. However, early tea was just another activity. Jamie didn't know how to fix the bore of this. Or the pain that would only subside with laughter and less emptiness. 

As were Jamie's speculations at least. 

"Nothing now that you're here." 

Spark. A little bit of magic, just a spark. But how could he believe that? And what even made him say that? He couldn't mean it surely! He never did. 

"Okay." 

What a stupid thing to say! Just to give in. 

Jamie never could argue very well. He wanted to be known, but couldn't get the point across, he thought too much and could never get it all out. 

People move on quickly. 

People move on. 

Sometimes he felt he might never move on if he had to would there be a way out. It was on and off, and he hated waiting. Kevin didn't give affection, but he gave comments and said beautiful falsities if you believed you might be broken. 

Jamie, however, had to trust his words. They were all he really had. 

Careful and reckless, different lives, different backgrounds. 

But somehow they managed. Afar but not apart. 

"What would help you today?" Jamie asked and Kevin let loose a smile. 

Always a smile.


	4. But You Are Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh, my stomach’s tied in knots I’m afraid of what I’ll find if you want to talk tonight"   
> \- SWS

~~~~~~~~

Maybe he doesn't care, maybe there has been no reason.

**********

If you asked Kevin what he wanted to do he would give you two options:

Go out somewhere no matter the time (to smoke, to drink, or to do all with a lot of people aka "party"). 

Or

Stay home and do something Jamie couldn't say. 

 

So from those options, Kevin was obviously the bad influence. He had no real direction and didn't know where he wanted to go. But he had guts and enough pain to not need them and would rather they go away. 

 

Maybe you've noticed, but Kevin rarely needs Jamie it almost feels that when he does Jamie has to change to be wanted. Even his voice would alter to feel a little less.

Jamie doesn't know what Kevin does, where he goes, and what even happens during his normal day. He's rich so he imagines something like golf. But that just isn't Kevin. 

"Where are we going?" Jamie anxiously wondered, jamming his fists deeper into his hoodie pockets. 

"You know." 

He really didn't. He never knew anything.

 

Getting lost in yourself is almost like being too fast for the rest of the world that everything slows down inside you to keep up. 

And after walking for so long it overcomes you in a storm of sadness harm. There is a way out, and yet the light isn't real. 

Maybe you wanted a hand to hold, maybe it didn't show up. Because you're too overwhelmed by the thought of moving to do so yourself. 

 

Jamie was so stuck in his head that he didn't even realize when they had finally made it to a corner of Beach City both of them knew very well. 

It was a ruined area, the kind where rusty light walls fall apart and collect themselves at the bottom. And Kevin felt right at home here, at least it looked that way. As the rich boy he was it was almost impossible to see him sitting on the actual ground. And of course, he did. 

He was sick of people and their ideas about him. Things they didn't know. 

Kevin changed a lot. He changed almost too much from the boy who wouldn't shut up to the man who couldn't say a word. He no longer cared about appearance, and he didn't even want to be healthy. But reputation was hard to get away from. 

It wasn't Jamie's fault. People thought the transformation was good. And then didn't think at all. Because Kevin was a background character in the lives of many. But Jamie saw him as the world. And wondered to himself what happened to make Kevin feel so worthless. 

He who never speaks as well. His problems unknown by the people he loves and he couldn't do anything about it. 

But as he sits on the ground in a corner, not caring what the world thinks, the world wasn't there. And Jamie takes the spot next to him, but far enough apart that they could breathe. 

And he found himself wondering yet again. What goes on in Kevin's head? 

"Why here today?" 

"You know." 

Maybe this time he did know, but he really had to think first. What could he know? What did Kevin mean by he "knows" What does anyone truly know? 

This was Kevin's safe place. 

He wouldn't smoke here, no one ever came here. That had to be it. 

But by the way Kevin was reacting it didn't feel like a safe space. Because he was in that state where he stared off to nowhere, space felt cold and violent. Like pressure weighing down the innocent mind. 

This place was somewhere. But nowhere. And you could lose yourself in it if you stayed there for too long. 

"Talk to me for once." Quietly, Jamie spoke to the open air. And let some of that held up desperation leave. 

"I missed you." 

"Sure."

And Kevin just shrugged with a satisfied glint in his eye. But an ever so sad demeanor. 

It's weird to think you've done nothing wrong when it seems you have completely.


	5. Always - From The Journals Of An Anxious Poet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Come break some hearts now, tear them out  
> Filing for amusements with the crowd  
> Oh, but be advised, participation is required  
> Doing things not typically allowed-
> 
> Feels like we're having a good time It's true, a wonderfully good time
> 
> When I'm with you"   
> \- social climb IDKHBTFM

You cannot cry for those who have been harmed, but you can you know they have lived for too long. 

Whether you choose to accept this or let it go, that's your fate. 

*********

Sometimes there is a difficulty for Jamie to tell what is real and not. 

Not in a psychotic sort of way, but in a storm of anxieties that swell and tend to never fade. 

You can say one thing and let it go, but if you say too much it feels too heavy. You'll just waste away. 

Well, Jamie still doesn't know what he said wrong, or why Kevin was still here. It's strange for him to be clingy, always worrying about being "tied down", or seeming wistful. 

Jamie just wanted more. And the more time they spent together the more it felt like he would always be hungry to know and be known by his love. 

An overcoming storm that wouldn't stop until finally, he could rest without this mind in some other life.

 

Away from the dead concrete walls Kevin and he walked quietly along a silent street. The smell of morning cold interrupted by the smoke radiating from Kevins lit cigarette. 

At least it wasn't weed. 

Because when it's weed there's always some pressure to do it yourself. Jamie hated that feeling. 

The feeling of wanting to please others, but the anxiety of giving in and then needing to back out. The worst part was Kevin sitting in the background not paying attention when nights like these happen. Because his mind is never around to hear this kind of thing. 

God, he's an adult he shouldn't need to experience these kinds of things.

But that internal turmoil would turn without a thought from other sources. 

 

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" Yet again he pushed. There was never a sure answer given, and he felt the need to understand more. After all, this unusual tended to never be easy.

Abruptly, Kevin stopped walking making Jamie stumble over his heals. But quickly he was stabilized by Kevin, who turned around seeming to know this would happen. 

"Be careful babe, yeesh." And he huffed and turned back his arms crossed pouting. 

Babe??? Babe?! 

Okay, so you might say he was a little excited, a little out of it with sparks again. Because this was a comment from the Kevin he knew before... Before everything he didn't know about. 

There was still a little Kevin left. Maybe there could always be. 

Maybe he thought like himself but never could put out, and that feeling of anxious yet excited came over him. Like burning whiskey! Deep in the depths of his heart! (Not as in addiction, that would be horrible). 

After all that thought all he could think to choke out was yet another "what?" Grimacing, Kevin replied without turning around,

"You could've fallen, or burnt yourself, be careful." 

Burnt himself? Burn- 

Suddenly, he remembered the cigarette in between Kevin's lips, the fire, and smoke, the sparks illuminating in them. 

It couldn't have hurt him. It couldn't have, he hardly stumbled anyway. 

Why did it matter so much?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is also on Wattpad, also sooner updates but I'm 100% positive no one cares.


	6. Spark

~~~~~~~~~~

Early breath.

Inhale, try not to die.

But want to all the same.

Breathe in and forget the pain. But don't lose yourself or it's the end. This is all a game.

For memories sake.

*********

The pain you receive from hoping on life never seems to succeed. Because maybe you want to live, but can't seem to find a way to survive.

Streets at late noon are known for their heat. But in the middle of winter, the cold fluctuates through the hot town and yet the sun still pokes out of the mist, and fog, and those hoping for a kiss.

Because mistletoe is in forever, but everyone is waiting. And fall can come and go as wished, but in mind, it'll always be December.

Jamie could feel it on the air as he walked alongside Kevin. The trek to wherever (perhaps nowhere) elongated itself, letting thoughts and pressure change the air, but stay in blue wonder. An aegean breeze but the ground royal dark. A kind of dark you could just lose yourself in. 

"Kevin-"

"No." 

A dark so seemingly volatile, that even the white streaks are painted in the void. A void of sky. 

But red. Ever so red. 

Orange and blue and red. 

Falling, falling apart. 

As he taps the end of a flame newly lit and suddenly just embers. Such a slow burn for embers. 

They can invade the dark for some time. But eventually, they will come in, and change the sparks, make them just as dark. 

What could Jamie live for then? For the sparks to be gone? For them to come back? And what kind of spark was it that could matter in the end? 

Well, it mattered. Until it didn't. And the world doesn't wait to hear you. 

It never does.


	7. Ruins

Sometimes you find yourself drinking on the edge of reality. Grasping for a moment you can feel and almost touch! 

And eventually you reach that, but what if it is at its bottom? What if he can't do anything? 

What if all that motivation was for the need of more? 

*************

There are not a lot of places in Beach City that are horrible. Most of them are nice and wholesome or look that way.

The moon in Beach City is close. And the best view is from the ocean. Or the top of a peak, a cliff, that brings the moon and you closer.

Closer than anything imaginable. 

One. 

It was Jamie's favorite thing to think about. And Kevin's to poke fun at.

They sat upon the cliff, stargazing in perfect semblance. One daring his legs to slide just a little further, the other too afraid to look even close to the edge. 

"Kevin?" He whispers into faint.

"Yes." 

"Do you ever just- look up and, and think that this world, the whole world, is galaxies apart? So vast and yet so small, and all we are is a moment!" 

The long approving purr Kevin gave chilled the cold air more. But propelled Jamie to keep going, say more. So he propped himself on an elbow, looking with intent down at Kevin and he furrowed his brow in a humorous way. Receiving but a stare in clouds direction. 

"That all we are, is time and space, and relative. That we can go forever knowing something, but never remembered it on the day. That I mean nothing is so meaningful in itself. That I can be the world!" 

The stare grew longer, so long, but Jamie didn't care. He was caught in an endless but ending moment. 

"Kevin, you can be the world. You are the stars! You are everywhere. Afar, alone, and beautiful. So full of universe that you can portray a universe in your mind and have it be reality! You can lose yourself! It is the world. It is the world so focused on turning it doesn't even look to catch the moment." 

And Kevin turned his head this time. His eyes solely focused on Jamie. 

"I missed you." 

"What?" 

His smile feels like the only one.

"I missed you."


	8. Touch

~~~~~~~

Sometimes you go so long with trying, that not trying just another thing to try and grasp. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

His skin, the feeling of wasting away.

His eyes, So beautiful in decay

And his lips, ready for an end of stay.

And you can taste that end closer than any other. Closer than you are. 

 

His shoulder, freckled and sensitive and part of him.

His neck, so thin but strong, it carries him on.

And his chin, so full of despair. 

If despair treats you to the end then touching it seems fair. 

 

Why his shirt is blue or grey, but the color was no concern, for what lies underneath is. 

 

No. Too fast, but not fast enough. 

Too true but not good enough. 

Two years and all you are is sludge. 

 

But his hands so flinty and dark

His fingers touch, his nails bleed. 

His crafted arms like Greek gods, but never have to be strong enough be strong because you are. 

 

Just stop the cycle, stop the thoughts. Stop feeling, suppress it too far. Just so he can't see you bleed from the inside. Because he would hate to find you like this. Hate how much you think. 

His copious thinking was annoying and burdened. Sometimes he didn't think at all. 

Before he says something it never comes to him. When he needs something it's just his feet that know and his mind to figure out. 

But when it came to touch and feeling and kissing in a tender way instead of heated fast and too much, his mind never could let him be. 

It raced too much for more. 

 

His lips, soft, so soft, and pleading.

His tongue, so perfect, hot, worth it.

 

The world around them was so cold. But the colder they got the closer they would have to become. Against the lighthouse, Kevin broke away to watch Jamie, breathing softly. 

The cold air came between them as Kevin's vision grew dark. He didn't know what he was feeling anymore. He didn't care if the emotion was real or just reaction. But he wanted to be warm like this more often. 

And that was a feeling he was always afraid of. 

Instead of reconnecting the pieces, he sat there, straddling Jamie as he took another cigarette from his pocket, lighting it diligently as the smoke sank deep into his lungs. 

He blew it over to the side, aware that his face and Jamie's still weren't that far apart. 

"You're going to kill yourself, Kevin." 

This time he took a small breath of it in and blew it playfully at Jamie's face. Who made an effort of grunting and hacking theatrically. 

"And now I've killed you." 

"Is there a worse way to go?" 

"Never."

And he moved the cigarette away from their faces, connecting their lips once again. But he wouldn't crush the disease, no. So it surprised him when Jamie traced his hand up Kevin's side and right towards his hand interlacing their fingers over the painful stick. And when he pulled away the cigarette lay in his palm, and he crushed it on the side of the lighthouse smirking through their kiss. 

That was bold of him, bolder than usual. And somehow it made his hearts ache deepen with something of a need he couldn't understand. 

In finality they broke the kiss, both deciding quietly it was just time to leave. So Kevin climbed off and stood, reaching out a hand that Jamie gladly took and held onto. 

The freezing weather eventually took hold of both of them. Their cheeks red and hands brittle. As the night seemed to waver on, it made them closer, physically yet mentally as well. 

And somehow this version of home made sense.


	9. Tears - From The Juronuals Of A Lonely Poet

*******

Maybe being cold and alone is something you can forget after a while. But expecting it and frightened or on edge every day knowing it never lasts is the terrifying part. 

Maybe when you wake up it is possible to feel, but too blind tiring to even try. Just confusion and mass of reality, overhanging, overbearing. Like being born yet again, born into a crazy world that you did not intend or need or want. And suddenly it's all your fault. 

Suppose that the future is safe. A comfortable place. 

Well in Kevin's arms Jamie felt there. If he was the future though, instead, he is only the now. 

And sometimes that now isn't even real. And he leaves him waiting, always waiting, where he feels he should be looking. But looking always ends in such a bad place. Such a horrible state. 

 

Maybe if he cries enough his mind won't think at all. 

***********

Tears fall and do no harm

But tears come and carry heart

The place,

Safe place

Where smell is confined 

All that matters 

All that is

And what will never be. 

Cry again for symphony 

Tears lost on death and sing

Burn up for nothing lost in whim 

*****************

Awake and half alive Jamie climbed out of his languid state, his eyes grew accustomed to the saturated darkness. Early morning, morning tea. Forget all that happened and all that can't be. 

It was just another lie, he'd tell himself. 

It was just another lie. 

And for fuck's sake were lies the only way to dream. 

Well, he didn't care. But he did so much. But he couldn't. And now he'd be stuck yet again. 

There were ways out, ways to drown. Jamie had coping mechanisms, but most of the time he was only hit with a pang of guilt, emotions, and "what if's". Then later it would fade away, and that different kind of sadness would have to stay. 

Apathy. A word maybe used too much, but more of burn than nothing at all. 

Today, of course, he had work. A process which could be relaxing or wouldn't be. He would find out none the less. 

Inside, he hoped it could all turn out fine. 

**********************

There is a difference between knowing things and not knowing them. 

There is a confidence in understanding them or trying to hold onto them. 

And maybe they do not exist at all, but to you, they must. 

Jamie felt the world around him colapse and come back, like breathing almost. And it sifted through him, filling in gaps then moving to compensate for those unknown. 

Adaptability. 

The waves of the sea collecting on the beach then pulling away, a rhythm Jamie appreciated when the world seemed to make no sense. Because if anything the constant is always a nice fact. Like repeating lines to yourself, knowing that they mean something and that you can become them and not have to worry about your own life for a while. 

After work, he enjoyed sitting along the coastline, listening to everything, just expanding his thoughts to a known world and not reaching for the unknown. 

Because he didn't have to. 

He didn't have to. 

Breathing in and breathing out the world seemed to slip away. Not in a dream state but in a mind set where eyes see more electricity than anything. Bonds forming and then-

Breaking- 

Suddenly his thoughts were disrupted by a rustling on the sand next to him, human instinct told him it was probably fine, but anxiety disagreed. So opening his eyes fragile like, he turned and relaxed at the imagery of another person he knew well but didn't all the same. 

"Hey Jamie," she said in a tone as anxious as he felt. Sadie was a lovely gal, she worked at the donut shop just up the boardwalk. It was nice to know she'd take time out of her day to just sit here with him. 

"Hey." He smiled up at her as they both sat in a meditating position, really just crossed legs. This sort of comfortable silence fell over them as they watched the waves. Silence was a nice thing, but sometimes a violent one. They both felt that. 

They were friends because of it, Jamie sometimes wondered how they even became friends. 

"Did he come back?" 

'She means Kevin' Jamie had to tell himself before nodding apprehensively with a sigh. She seemed to understand.

"Need a donut?" 

"Probably." 

And she smiled and stood, hands digging deep into her pockets. Following her, Jamie smiled too in a gaze ever so lonely. 

Maybe they understood each other in this sense. Loneliness, trying to be more. But not needing it all the same. 

The light and dark of today faded into the artificial, and warmth filled his mind again. 

Comfort, comfortable. One in the afternoon but feeling so much later. 

Of course, there will always be more time to feel, unfortunate.


	10. Motivation

The smell of hot melting chocolate is such a beautiful thing really. Mixed with soft touch and the air around of pastries, ah.

One of Jamie's favorite feelings is the warmth before biting into it. The pure childish enjoyment of sharing one with a friend and remembering the moment until another one comes.

He was thankful Sadie would take him in like this. It was sweet of her to care and funny to hear her and Lars bicker over the counter. These were some of his favorite moments, away from worry in pale orange highlights. Maybe they were all hurt, maybe they could feel safe. It's impressive to live even when you feel ripped apart.

When eventually the laughter came to an end, it always comes to an end, Jamie attempted paying. But Sadie just smiled and said "It's on me," no matter how he protested. Always a smile, a nice genuine smile.

Sadie was a true hero, so when he left feeling much better than before it made him feel like everything else would be a bit nicer.

Cold yet hued with orange around, Jamie quite enjoyed the walk home. Friends feel like the sun to him. Even if they don't really care.

He enjoys the company of that warmth on the walk home. A soft bounce and quiet head space. Now he felt there would be a way to go back to apathy. Apathy is a sadness, but apathy is safe. And this safety felt better than reality at the moment. 

Coming home felt safe, surprising for a feeling, perhaps it was the already set thought that he could do this, he could live. 

It struck him as a beautiful thing to write down. He had to write of the sky and beauty in reality, in someone's face and eyes, and in the span of everything blue. Writing felt like something he neglected, but also held as one of the most important aspects of his life. 

The solemn aptitude of an empty notebook was too much to think of. As space had need to fill itself and continue to grow from the emptiness but not with it. 

But in any world, it was never an issue to Jamie of what to write, but the motivation to actually write it down depleted minute by minute. 

Well, this was a great decline. 

From such calm to another kind of calm, comfortable yet depressing. Maybe he didn't want to think like this right now, maybe he would actually do something about it. 

In a flurry, he skidded to his desk (another shade of mahogany, with pens made out of purple heart wood. A thought he wouldn't think about) ruffling through the drawers before finally picking out one of his oldest journals, a soft ivory book. It fit nicely in his hands, like home. 

Opening to one of the last few pages he skipped through sloppy inked penmanship to blank lined sheets. Very few remained. 

And reaching for any pen close to him his mind went on a tangent already. The feeling of coming back, needing to feel. Unknown emotions poured through him. Emotions he didn't know he experienced. Yet in his writing they were there, mysterious, almost like a pseudonym. Obscure and misunderstood, but empathically known by the author. 

The ivory book was an ironic thing. Ivory is a color of purity, and Jamie liked to think he stained that red whenever he wrote in it.


	11. Maybe Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I imagine fingers crossing in the delicate night,
> 
> As if a fairytale had swathed itself in the same glowing lights.
> 
> We dedicate the touch for less than life,
> 
> But life doesn't matter when it's just us.
> 
> Maybe it's too fast to feel-
> 
> Pull me out of Gravity so nothing is real.

Motion makes a difference if you want to move, and in your head there's pain but nothing in your heart to prove. I wish you'd rip away the life we choose.

********

Maybe if he kept walking there would be more of a purpose for all these thoughts. But as he lays here in maroon jaded eyelids Jamie realizes that even through this whole day he still feels cold.

And it's weird to think this feeling is one he experiences often, it tends to go away. However, now he has this warmth and the overarching cold that seems penetrating but they are both really just layers.

Like the many brown shaded blankets and sheets strewn across his comforting room, made for heat but ever so lonely. Maybe he, like them, was just a little too suffocating.

 

Thoughts like these kept him up late all the time, going in circles in his own mind because he was his own therapist. And it wasn't helpful to feel all the time. Eventually, darkness would close around him in its comforting embrace. Take him away for a little while, sometimes too quickly, sometimes painfully, but always away.

His only hope was dreaming good or not dreaming at all.

And tonight, as he wasted slowly into comfortable dark, the only thing left was a deep shade of vacant velvet purple.

********

I imagine fingers crossing in the delicate night,

As if a fairytale had swathed itself in the same glowing lights.

We dedicate the touch for less than life,

But life doesn't matter when it's just us.

Maybe it's too fast to feel-

Pull me out of Gravity so nothing is real.

~~~~~~~~~

"And they were roommates!"

"Oh my god, they were roooommates-"

Cue stupid laughter and uncomfortable silence. Groups are always like that. Always.

There's only three of them and Kevin really wasn't feeling it. It was obvious.

No one would ask him about it, he wasn't close to them, he didn't even like them. But who turns down a reason to not be home?

Depressing right? He could've said "free weed! I'll always go for free weed!!" pot was just the silent plus of not being home. Derrick didn't even have weed this time.

The conversation was senseless and pathetic. None of them had anything to say, nothing that meant anything to them. They were just teens with no control and no one to give a shit about them, so they fabricated times to be meaningless instead of dead. Kevin didn't want that kind of life, he wanted to live. But something always forced him back. And he'd be fine with that.

The small group found their normal spot against a wall around the storage garages. Courtesy of Derricks stupid ideation. They weren't doing anything wrong though, and even if they were who would give a shit? Their moms? Nah, they were just recanting old memes at each other like it was the only chill thing to say. "What's up I'm Jared I'm 19 and I never fucking learned how to read" that was Kevin's favorite, for no reason at all, it just made sense. 

And of course they laughed, heartless meaningless laughs. 

And then they moved on. 

Nothing ever matters, they'd talk about nothing until dark. If he'd make it to dark. He didn't want to make it to dark. 

"I'm heading out." And he picked himself off the ground, walking nonchalantly away.

"Buzzkill" Derrick shouted behind him and earned a laugh from his companion who Kevin didn't even know the name of. Forgettable. 

He didn't know where he was going. He didn't care. His feat would take him where ever, or his mind would, the mind he didn't have. 

~~~~~~~~

Of course he found himself here, of all places, and yet none appealing enough to say "fine, I'll sleep in the dumpster!" 

Whatever that means. 

His boyfriend's house isn't bad, it isn't, he loves it there actually. It's just everytime is more guilt and he feels like a pain or not enough but his mind doesn't even begin to care, but he wants to care he just can't show it. That's a big confession he'd never tell you.

He doesn't even knock though, just lets himself in. Jamie isn't sitting on the worn out couch (Kevin is always glad to see the wine shaded pillows mixed with boring browns), or standing in his tiny yet functional kitchen. Kevin closes the door behind him thoughtfully, maybe loud enough to get someone insides attention. 

No, he wasn't thinking insecurely he was fine, he was cool, he was Kevin.

Moving deeper into the long hallway, Kevin knocked on the door to Jamie's study with the back of his hand softly, earning ruffles from the inside. 

Jamie was a fan of class, he liked opening the door himself and kissing hands and receiving flowers, or giving them. The best part is they both preferred being present.

The ever so brown (boring) door opened subtly with Jamie's big yet painfully sober eyes. Of course he'd open the door a little wider, but not his eyes. 

Kevin didn't notice eyes like he should, but he loved to look at Jamie's.

He felt the tremendous need to fall right into them. 

That's something else he hated about Jamie's place, it made him feel things. Maybe he wanted life and to live with more purpose, but feeling? Emotion got in the way of that life. But he couldn't help it, he never can. 

Kevin falls back into bad habits about as easily as he does into Jamie's arms. 

He wanted to cry, but that scares people. He wanted to speak, say anything, but then tears would come and he would be a freak. 

Freak. 

The past chilled his bones, an ice cube he would be. And that was about as comforting as crying. 

What could he say anyway? Words meant nothing, words were just pointless wastes he hardly could say.

Maybe later, maybe later he would try. But now he's stuck in pathetically hardening silence.


	12. Talk.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I miss you, miss you"

***********

Throat clenching silence, how do you talk to someone who seems so far away?

On his couch, Jamie sat with his legs spread over Kevin's lap holding onto his hand delicately. He feared that if he were to clench any harder Kevin would decay. 

Looking at Kevin was like looking at a toddler who didn't feel like cooperating, laughingly painful. What do you say to someone who closes themselves off so much? 

Jamie knew a lot of words, words and patterns of which to place them. He could fabricate the world with his tongue, but he could make nothing better. Years of trying told him this, years of speaking too much or never enough.

how do you make a dead thing live anyway?

"What's going on?" Jamie finally sighed out, expecting no real answer. Kevin turned his head at first, his face twisting up to a typical smirk. 

"Can we just fuck?" He asked, voice cracking slightly countering the grin. But he moved his hand up Jamie's thigh in an almost passive way. Like he needed something to exist but knew there was no way to fill that void. 

"No," he stated, firmly to his own surprise, however, he didn't remove Kevin's hand. Instead, he climbed closer until he straddled Kevin and kissed him lightly. "You have to talk this time." 

Gripping his face ever so faintly Jamie's heart bounced inside his skull and dropped to the lowest bones, a painful tug on surreality he couldn't let go. And as Kevin's hands found their place on his waist, deep within his eyes Jamie found something. A feeling more real than anything he ever witnessed from Kevin. 

Maybe it wasn't huge, just the quick spark of eyes changing emotions too quickly. 

Jamie knew that all too well, but maybe he couldn't understand it in someone who never felt at all. Someone who never talked at all, who he never saw. And why did he love him? Did he even? Was it real at all? Was any of this feeling a reality he had seen or was it too new and too basic that even though it's been years these moments always feel too big. 

"Hey," too deep, too heavy, not right now, it's not about you. Not today. In soft wet hands to fingers cold and drew bones, a hand of comfort rested itself calloused on his cheeks. The tears unnoticed by the owner because it's all too much. 

Soft little stars, displayed all over his face, crashed into him and made them shoot off in his head. Silence is loud but made quieter by presence. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Who needs the other more? 

Who needs at all? Isn't need a selfish crime? 

Pick yourself up. 

*************

Alone. 

But not physically alone. 

Ruminating on the absence of the others around you when they are always still. 

Sometimes waking up isn't pleasant. But in someone's arms, it feels right. With your head inside the crook of their neck in comforting peace, that's living. 

"You need a shower," Jamie mumbled slowly as he shuffled his face deeper into Kevin. 

"Do I?" Kevin breathed out, like exhaling smoke.

"Very much." Chuckling slowly Kevin stood up with Jamie still curled around him. Making his way to the master bedroom, Kevin placed Jamie down in the various empty sheets. Then, took his shirt off naturally balling it up as he walked to the bathroom. Standing in the door frame he turned back and stared back at Jamie staring at him. 

"You joining?" 

"Mmm, later." 

So the door was kept ajar as water could soon be heard running in the walls. Jamie's eyes fell weary at the rhythmic sound, slowly lulling him back to sleep. 

~~~~~~~~~

Fuck. He probably smelt fucking high. How? Well isn't it always like that? 

Maybe he smelt like home, maybe just dirt, maybe himself, whatever it is it was probably bad. 

He didn't care hours ago, he didn't care. But he made Jamie cry. 

If he can't be supportive at least he should be eye candy, not some messed up junkie adult looking thing. 

What was he even supposed to be supporting? What team was where? 

Whatever. Just, he fucked up somehow. 

All he could hope now is whatever all natural shit Jamie started using would actually mask or take away the clinging failure he is. 

Remaining absorbed in thinking, or maybe lack thereof, Kevin did not hear Jamie step quietly into the tiled room, of which sunk chills in Jamie's bare feet. Instead of acting quickly he just stood and watched, back against the wall. He loved Kevin's weird showers at his house. How his hair would flatten and look like Motley Crue, how the water dripped on areas of his shoulders and didn't spill, how he kept his mouth parted to inhale easily. Maybe it was all normal, but Kevin made showering look like an advertisement. And Jamie wanted that. 

So eventually he tapped on the glass, seeing Kevin's dead eye's turn to him and flicker for a second. 

'Need help?' He mouthed through the glass, and Kevin opened the door enough for Jamie to walk in. 

A silent ritual then occurred. Jamie's hands instantly reached for a bottle of lavender soap, and as the ivory colored substance poured into his hands he rubbed them together and placed his hands on Kevin. Starting with his shoulders he dragged down slowly letting every place feel a little more like heaven. 

Kevin felt years of stress and pain building in his shoulders decline as if each touch was little bits of dopamine spreading through his brain like wildfire. It was solace, solace he didn't know. In reality, this was more special to him because today he felt like he was actually there, actually participating in these acts rather than living out the painful apathy. 

Occasionally his lips would graze Jamie's skin, kissing away what stress he seemed to find building up in Jamie's head. 

It's a moment that Kevin wouldn't understand, a moment that includes heavy trust but doesn't have to mean much.

Taking things for granted just seemed to be in Kevin's functioning.

***********

Normally, Jamie would prohibit Kevin's smoking habits inside his apartment. But today it felt almost right, sitting legs spread out on the floor of a tub with his love. Maybe it was just how Kevin smoked that made his rules weaken around him. Maybe it was the curling of smoke off his lips, intoxicating contact high. 

He wanted him to talk. Yet again he wanted him to say something, anything. Because just watching was difficult. 

So when the cigarette was offered to him with Kevin's face of realization he didn't really know what to think. It was an endearing offer really. So, of course, he took it, stared at Kevin intently while smoke poisoned his lungs and then the air. He knew he didn't look as cool as Kevin, he wasn't totally concerned with that, however. 

Taking the pain in once more Jamie blew it in Kevin's face playfully, receiving a quirked eyebrow and a small laugh while it was taken from him. 

"You want me to talk," Kevin stated nonchalantly. 

"Yes." 

"What do you want to hear?" 

"You." 

If he started thinking Jamie feared he might break down again. He felt more like listening, hearing words he hadn't in forever, hearing more than a few sentences in a voice he missed. 

Inhaling once again, Kevin seemed to give a look of worthlessness. As if he really had nothing to say. But there was no pressure this time, it wasn't silent because it had to be, he just genuinely didn't know how to speak. 

Suddenly, a small hum came from Kevin's direction to the toon of a song Jamie new well when he was younger. But couldn't quite picture the actual name or any lyric. 

"Don't waste your time on me," Kevin's voice breathed out easily, maybe not singing but talking to a toon. "You're already the voice inside my head~"

He knew it now, the song, he heard it before. Because of it, his brain shifted to attempting to guess the next word, and then maybe the actual name. Until Kevin started from the beginning of the song the repeated lyrics made no sense to Jamie. 

"Hello there, the angle from my nightmare, the shadow in the background of the morgue,"

Jamie knew the lyrics now, it played in his head. And he must say, Kevin's voice was much more melodic than Mark Hoppus or Tom DeLong. Absentmindedly Jamie joined in, his head now resting in his hand on the side of the bath. 

"The unsuspecting victim, of darkness in the valley,"

"We could live like Jack and Sally if we want to."

"Where you could always find me,"

"And we'll have Halloween on Christmas,"

"And in the night we'll wish this never ends, we'll wish this never ends."

"I miss you, miss you" 

Blink-182


End file.
